


if i keep my eyes closed, he looks just like you

by brokenshards



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-22
Updated: 2017-05-22
Packaged: 2018-11-03 12:20:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10967118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokenshards/pseuds/brokenshards
Summary: (Post S2 AU) Lancelot finds Morgana in the woods as she was running away from Morgause, and he brings her back to Camelot-- and to the mess that is Arthur and Gwen.





	if i keep my eyes closed, he looks just like you

**Author's Note:**

> written for prompts given by rebelqueenss on tumblr

It had only been a few months since Morgana’s poisoning and subsequent disappearance when she came across a familiar face.

After Merlin’s betrayal, Morgause had nursed her back to health-- essentially raising her from the dead, and then had slowly taught her to control her powers. Morgana was comfortable away from Uther’s rule, freer and less terrified, but full of anger she couldn’t quite place properly, and it didn’t take long for her to run off on her own.

Once out in the woods, she had been accosted by bandits, the irony not lost on her, as she and Morgause had discussed using it as a cover story if she ever came across Camelot’s finest. She was stumbling to think of a proper spell to save herself when a man, whose face she faintly recalled and whose name had rolled too often off other’s lips, came riding up on horseback.

He cut down the men surrounding her, his skills with a sword reminding her of Arthur for a brief moment. She could’ve so easily told him to leave her there, that she’d find her own way back, but as he dismounted, her voice caught in her throat, and she oddly wanted him to stay. A little reminder of who she used to be, someone who knew her before her life had gotten so complicated. “Lancelot,” she breathed, the venom so often tingeing her tone fainter than usual.

“Lady Morgana?” he questioned, his dark hair sticking to his forehead as sweat rolled over his skin.

She nodded, wishing she had something to say, something to convince him to forget this ever happened.

When he offered to take her home, she let him.

\---

Camelot wasn’t really her home anymore, and neither was it his, but the welcome they received sure made it seem as such. Uther welcomed her back with the promise of a feast, and with the reward of reinstating Lancelot as a knight as a part of his grand show of how much he _loved_ his ward.

Merlin was terrified of her, Gwen strangely avoidant, and Arthur... Arthur had looked as though he wanted to take her in his arms and never let go, but hadn’t said a word. The only person truly removed from her conflicting feelings about this place was Lancelot, and she stuck next to him as much as possible.

It wasn’t long before she realized that she hadn’t been missed at all, and she blamed them all for forgetting her so easily, for moving on, for being happy when she didn’t know how.

She found Gwen in Arthur’s arms later that night, whispers exchanged in an alcove when they thought no one could see. But she saw everything, didn’t they remember that?

Escaping from the suffocating confines of the castle and Arthur and Gwen’s disgusting display, she saw Lancelot out on the jousting pitch, watching the stars as they slowly rotated above them. Morgana followed him, sitting down next to him in the dirt.

As they sat, she broke the still of the night, remarking, “I get it now, why you left.”

He looked over at her, confusion marring his handsome face.

“I remember seeing Gwen so heartbroken, and I could never understand why you wouldn’t want to come back for her. But I get it. You were an outsider in their world, a knight without a purpose, denied of being who you were. Why would anyone want to live like that?”

“You’re not an outsider,” he ventured, but he was cut off by her sharp laughter.

“I wanted to watch this place burn,” she murmured.

“What stopped you?” he asked, and she honestly couldn’t think of a reason.

Instead of answering, she turned to look at him. “You don’t have to stay,” she offered, but he ignored her just the same.

\---

Before the feast the next night, Arthur came to visit her. The silence was heavy and palpable as he hesitated by the door, and she wondered what Merlin had told him about her, if he was scared of her now too. He should be; she started to smirk at the thought, but bit the inside of her cheek as the words twisted in her gut.

“Did you miss me?” she taunted, expecting to earn a laugh, but he sunk down on the bed next to her, his hands twitching where they rest in his lap.

“More than I thought,” he whispered, as if it were news to him as well.

She startled at that, but before she could process, he was asking her about where she’d been, and the heaviness pressed down on her again. It was so tempting to tell him the truth, to drown him in betrayals-- hers, Merlin’s, his father’s, did it matter? What lies he’d been told, yet here she was adding to the list. ‘ _You’re a better man than your father_ ,’ she wondered, had that been a lie as well?

Morgana spun her tale well, but surprisingly she found it burning at her throat, and as he pulled her in for an embrace, she buried her head against his collarbone, breathing sharply as tears dampened his shirt.

\---

The roar of the feast was deafening, it had been so long since she had been around this many people. All the questions and well wishes were smothering her, and she was grateful for the feel of Lancelot’s hand on her back as he led her away from the throng.

As the feast officially began, Morgana sunk into her chair and picked at her food idly. At some point, Merlin tried to refill her goblet and she nearly threw it across the room as she knocked it out of his reach.

Lancelot caught it, and he set a hand on her wrist to steady her. She hadn’t even realized how violently her whole body had been shaking, but Lancelot quickly pulled her out on the dance floor and away from Arthur’s curious glances.

As she moved with the rhythm, her breathing began to even out, and she laughed in frustration.

“There’s more to your story, isn’t there?” Lancelot asked, his voice more confident than before, the initial wariness around her gone.

Morgana’s eyes snapped up to meet his, her glare dangerous. “You don’t know me.”

“And you like it that way,” he added, clearly more perceptive than she had realized.

“I like that you _usually_ mind your business,” she snapped, but before she could successfully pull away, he had spun her back into his arms.

She had collided hard against his chest, and he bent down to hover by her ear. “You brought me back into this too. When you’re ready to talk, I’ll be here.”

As he let her go, Morgana caught sight of Gwen’s heated gaze as she watched them, and the absurdity made her laugh, not caring who saw her.

She left the banquet early, ignoring Uther’s disapproving looks.

\---  


Lancelot was knighted one bright morning the following week, and Morgana’s brow furrowed upon noticing the tension in the room. Arthur’s grip was a bit too tight on his sword as it touched Lancelot’s shoulders, and whether his mood was due to her or Gwen, she couldn’t tell.

Guinevere hadn’t been allowed in the private ceremony, but Morgana noticed her hovering at the door waiting for them.

The serving girl’s hand ghosted over Lancelot’s arm as he walked past, as though she was debating something. He ignored her almost-touch, though Morgana saw his jaw twitch from the effort.

Morgana wasn’t sure who she was trying to bother more, but something sick inside her reared up, and she tucked her arm brightly through Lancelot’s, leading him away from Arthur and Gwen.

Lancelot oddly didn’t seem to mind, he simply smiled over at her as she dragged him down the hall.

\---

Arthur sent her flowers the next day. She threw them out, ignoring her new maid’s skeptical looks.

She overheard Merlin arguing with Arthur about it later, as though sending her flowers was some sort of heinous offense.  


“She’s been through more than you realize, Merlin.”

As Merlin attempted to say something, Morgana caught the hushed reply that cut him short from around the corner.

“You don’t get it, I won’t lose her again. She’s too important to me.”

When she returned to her chambers, she fished the flowers out of the trash.  


\---  


It didn’t take long for Merlin to gain enough courage to confront her, though the terror was still clear on his face.

“I don’t want to see you,” she dismissed him, pushing past him in the hall, but he persisted.

“Morgana--” he started, moving back in front of her. “We should talk.”  


She huffed angrily, finally allowing herself to look at him. “You poisoned me,” she hissed. “I quite think we should never speak again.”

“You haven’t told anyone, I thought maybe you--”

Her shaky grin was malicious as her lips curled over her teeth, and she forced her feet to move closer to him despite the paralyzing feeling running through her veins. “Just because I haven’t had Arthur kill you yet, don’t think I won’t.”

Merlin swallowed hard, but he persisted. “I thought perhaps you’d changed.”

“Changed?” she barked. “What did I need to change? I’m not the one murdering my friends.”

“No, you just attempt to murder kings,” he retorted, his eyes flashing.  


She cut her eyes at him, how stupid and naive he was. Her whole body itched with the urge to send him flying, but she resisted. “Careful, Merlin, that king you care so dearly for could easily have your head on a spike if I wished it.”

“I won’t let you do any more damage, Morgana.”

Her laughter echoed off the stones, and the force of it hurt her chest. She purposefully knocked into his shoulder to push past him, but he grabbed onto her wrist before she could pass.  


“I’m serious,” he whispered, his voice grating.

Morgana’s head whipped towards him, and she felt the heat rise in her chest. “Let go of me.” Her voice was even and her tone cold, but the words were loud enough to draw attention.

Lancelot had rounded the corner and caught the scene, and he quickly rushed over, catching the sheepish look on Merlin’s face as the boy released Morgana’s arm.

Morgana shoved Merlin further from her, her back brushing against Lancelot’s chest as she distanced herself.

Lancelot looked between the two of them before settling on Morgana. “Is everything alright, milady?”

If Merlin looked wounded at the dismissal from his friend, Morgana missed it, because she fled down the hall, Lancelot close behind her.

\---  


After the event with Merlin, Morgana had sequestered herself away for a few days, and Arthur cornered her late one night, uncharacteristically awkward. “I wanted to check that you were okay.”

“I’m fine, Arthur.” Morgana waved him off, attempting to get to her chambers.

Arthur caught her hand, stopping her. “You vanished for months, can’t you at least give me a minute?”

“For what?” she sighed, feeling drained already. Something about being around Arthur made her feel like her feet were filled with lead, she felt grounded and permanent-- and it made her uneasy.

“To talk,” he responded, his expression revealing his recognition of how stupid he sounded.

Morgana decided to be petty, and she bit, “You and I stopped talking long before I went missing Arthur, this is hardly new.”

His mouth fell slightly ajar, and he cocked his head as he recovered. “Do you hate me now, is that it?”

She laughed harshly. “If only it were that simple,” she muttered.

He dropped his gaze, staring at his feet. “Look, I know I failed you, but I just...”

Morgana tried to free her hand from his, but he held fast.

Looking back up at her, he murmured, “I thought I could manage. I can’t. Not without you. Not ever like that.”

Her eyes narrowed, crinkling the skin between her brows. He seemed so much like the boy she once thought she could’ve loved, and yet, he wasn’t the same. “You don’t need me.”

His fingers squeezed, brushing her palm as they curled against her hand. “You’re wrong.”

She still couldn’t let herself believe him, and she laughed. “You look like you survived just fine without me around. Better than fine, actually. You’ll go back to forgetting I’m here soon enough.”

He was used to her brutal honesty, but the coldness glinting in her eyes caught him off guard, and he dropped her hand.

Ignoring all pretenses, Morgana ran.

\---

Lancelot came to visit Morgana’s chambers not long after, and he saw right through her.

“Arthur seems a bit off today. Would you know anything about that?”

Morgana rolled her eyes at him. “Stop presuming to know me, Sir Knight. You may have saved my life, but I don’t owe you anything.”

He leaned against her bed post, unaffected by her snark. “You blame him for something, I’ve seen it since you got here.”

She sighed heavily. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

He shook his head, so infuriatingly persistent. “Was it because he didn’t stop you from being taken? Or does it go deeper than that?”

“Arthur isn’t at fault for what happened to me,” she murmured.

“Is it Merlin, then? You two aren’t exactly... _friendly_.”

Morgana imperceptibly flinched, but held her tongue. Truthfully, she couldn’t pick out who she blamed the most, or why it ate at her so much. She hated introspection, and it was easier to deflect. “Honestly, maybe I should blame you for bringing me back.”

He laughed at her, and she grit her teeth.

“Why are you here?” she angrily asked him.

He shrugged a shoulder. “As a knight, it’s my job to look out for the people in this kingdom.”

“Too chivalrous for your own good,” she muttered.  


His shoulders dropped slightly at that, something in her words hitting a nerve. “You should forgive him.”  


Her eyes snapped to him sharply before realizing who he meant, and she let go of the breath she hadn’t meant to hold.  


“I don’t know what happened between you, but Arthur, he...” Lancelot took a breath, minutely shaking his head. “It’s obvious that he cares about you, even from what little I see.”

Morgana let out a short bark of laughter. “Clearly you don’t see much.” She sat down on her bed, assessing him carefully. He thought much more of Arthur than himself, and it irritated her. Not thinking it all the way through, she brashly declared, “Arthur and the lovely Guinevere are having an affair.”

He didn’t react the way she expected him to, and she pushed herself to sit up straighter as she leaned towards him.

“You knew,” she breathed out, unsure of what part of his knowing was the most disconcerting. “How long?”

“I saw it the last time I was with them. It’s why I left,” he admitted.  


Morgana suddenly had the urge to stamp her foot like a child. “You’re telling me that my maid and Arthur have been going behind my back for nearly a year now?”

“You sound jealous, Morgana,” he accused.  


“Please,” she snorted, cutting her eyes at him. “Does this mean you wanted me to forgive Arthur for my sake, or for yours?”

He smiled despite the pain behind his eyes. “I hold no grudge against either of them.”

“Neither do I,” she retorted, though it lacked sincerity.

“You chose to stay away, just as I did.”  


She didn’t bother to correct him with her fake story, but she huffed, deflating. “Guess we have no one to blame but ourselves, then.”

\---

The longer she was back, the more it ate at her that Arthur had fallen for Gwen. She could see the hidden glances now, the moments caught in between. It shouldn’t bother her the way it did, but it felt wrong, and she couldn’t accept it.

“You’re obsessing,” Lancelot pointed out, watching her as she stared angrily at Gwen and Arthur as they walked in the courtyard.

“Why do you think he hid it from me?” she mused.

Lancelot tugged her away from her perch under the arches, breaking her concentration. “You have to let it go.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “You stare after Gwen all the time.” At his slight glare, she smirked. “Don’t deny it. I see the way you look at her.” She did, and for some reason it gnawed at her insides, though her jealousy was misplaced and she knew it. “It’s as if she’s the reason your world turns.”

“I just want her to be happy.”

Morgana’s eyebrow lifted. “She was happy with you.”

“He can offer her more than I can,” he commented, though the veiled frustration was seeping through his words.

Morgana snorted in amusement, and her laughter was enough to catch Arthur and Gwen’s attention. Arthur’s eyes burned as they met hers, whereas Gwen just looked sheepish.

Lancelot tried to pulled her away, but Morgana stopped him. “You shouldn’t have to hide from them. They’re the ones sneaking around.”

He gave her a wavering glare, clearly uncomfortable.

Suddenly struck with an idea, she leaned into him, crossing the boundaries of personal space. She didn’t know when inciting chaos had started to please her so much-- she briefly thought of Morgause before dismissing the thoughts. “Lancelot, don’t you remember what it was like?” She moved closer, her words whispered across the skin of his cheek now. “The way you felt when she would look at you?” She moved her hand slowly along his forearm, trailing her fingers over his wrist. “When she touched you?”  


He grabbed at her shoulders to move her, but Morgana had already twisted them out of view. “Stop that,” he scolded, but with nowhere near the heat it would’ve held had it come from her riling Arthur.  


She giggled louder than necessary, though the mirth behind it was real. “You’re exactly right for her. How she got tangled with Arthur is beyond me.”

Lancelot stormed off as angrily as someone of his noble caliber could muster.

Morgana peered around the pillar to see Arthur still looking in her direction, Gwen nowhere to be seen.

\---

Lancelot came to Morgana’s room several nights after, his face glowing, but his demeanor conveying embarrassment. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”

Morgana set her hairbrush on her vanity, rising to meet him. “What are you talking about?”

“I should never have come back here.”

At that, she lifted an eyebrow. “Your welcome has been warmer than mine.”

He dragged a hand heavily over his face, breathing through his nose. “Gwen, she... she kissed me.”

Morgana choked briefly. “What?”

“I’d been avoiding her, I just thought...” He shook his head. “I shouldn’t have given in, I shouldn’t have gone to see her, but god, I’d missed her so much.”

Morgana resisted rolling her eyes at his theatrics. Her blood was too busy boiling over the thought of Gwen hurting Arthur, as stupid as it was. She had gone behind his back, she had lied to him too. It was hypocritical but she was furious all the same.

“I need your help, Morgana, you have to keep me away from her. I don’t want to--” He shut his eyes, breathing through his nose like the effort hurt him. “I don’t know what I want.”

Morgana perched on the edge of a table, assessing him carefully. “Yes, you do.”  


His eyes opened slowly, but he was unable to truly muster a glare in response.

He was too much of a gentleman to admit the truth, but she could see it. She should’ve ignored it, meddling would just bring her unnecessary attention, but there was that niggling feeling in her mind that this wasn’t how things should be, and she couldn’t stop herself.  


“I’ll help you,” she decided.

\---

Lancelot should’ve known better than to go along with Morgana’s plan, but it was too late now, and as Morgana wrapped her favor around his arm before the joust, he held his head high, ignoring everyone’s looks.

Her purple fabric stood out more than the pale yellow on Arthur’s arm, and Morgana smirked in satisfaction as Arthur brushed past her, his expression stormy.

She rarely ever gave her favor to knights, and to be honest, the last time she had, it had been to Arthur. The thought bothered her more than she’d like, and she gripped the railing in front of her a bit harder as Arthur rode onto the pitch.  


Lancelot didn’t win in the end, Arthur of course victorious as usual, but Morgana pressed a kiss to Lancelot’s cheek in the relative privacy of the staging area, allowing all the right people to see her choice in champion.

She couldn’t decide who looked more shocked, though she could feel Merlin staring daggers into her back from where he was creeping in the corner, and she ducked out of the tent.

Lancelot was her escort to the feast, and Morgana enjoyed having to watch Arthur enter alone, Gwen already inside with the other servants. Morgana clapped cordially in celebration of Arthur’s victory, and then resigned herself to the back of the room, a goblet of wine in hand. From where she lurked, she could see the way Gwen watched Lancelot the whole night. Yet he played his part well, his eyes only on Morgana when he dared to pull himself away from the other knights.  


As the night wore on, Morgana drank more than she should, the stifling heat of the room bearing down on her, and she briefly considered throwing herself down the well in the courtyard as she escaped the flurry of activity.

She heard footsteps behind her, and assuming that it was Lancelot, continued to lean on the edge of the well, not bothering to mask her emotions.

“Are we boring you, Morgana?”

Morgana turned her head to find Arthur behind her, his face unreadable. Too tired to be defensive, she admitted, “I’m not used to crowds anymore, just needed some air.”

He came over to rest against the wooden housing above the stones, staring across the well at her.

Sighing, she broke the silence. “Congratulations on your victory.”

Arthur’s mouth quirked up into a half-smile, but he still seemed bothered. “You didn’t seem too impressed.”

Not giving in to the bait, she shrugged one shoulder. “I’ve seen you joust plenty of times already.”

“But not Lancelot,” he pointed out, his subtlety clearly lacking.

“Hmm, no,” she hummed. She stared back down at the dark water beneath her, imagining herself falling.

“I thought it was nice of you, giving him your favor like that.”

“Was it?” she questioned, still watching the water.

Arthur pressed on, his frustration only slightly coming through as he pushed himself off the post and moved closer. “Yes. I thought it was good of you to welcome him back to Camelot.”  


She finally looked up, catching how his blue eyes glowed in the moonlight. “And if it was more than that?”  


His eyes flashed as he swallowed to steady himself, and Morgana wanted to practically cackle at the fact that she could still fluster him so. “I guess that would be your business,” he answered, his voice tight with tension.  


“I guess it is, then,” she retorted as she moved away from the well, heading back into the party.

\---  


It soon became clear that Lancelot was courting Morgana, the gossip already spreading wildly through the castle.  


Most people were happy for her, but for some reason Merlin couldn’t stop assuming the worst, and he came after her again. He was waiting in her chambers when she returned from dinner, and the rage that flared up in her at the sight wouldn’t go away, despite how much she tried to calm herself.

“What are you doing, Morgana?” he accused.  


“God, you’re even more stupid than you look,” she snapped. “Leave, before I call the guards.”

Merlin stayed where he was, ignoring her. “I don’t know what your game is, but leave Lancelot of it.”

Morgana couldn’t help but smirk at him. “How is it that your view of the world has gotten so warped? You’re making monsters out of shadows.”

He swallowed, and she could see him falter a bit, a thought working its way through his mind. “You forget that I know what really happened that day. I know Morgause took you to save you, and I don’t buy that she would’ve abandoned you.”

Her eyes narrowed at the mention of her almost forgotten sister. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Morgause has tried more than once to destroy Camelot, why should I not think that this is just another one of her plots?”

“Plots?” she laughed. “You mean when she tried to tell Arthur the truth about his mother, or when she peacefully tried to end a war of over twenty years?” At his shocked expression, she continued, “Yes, of course I know about that. And what a good friend _you_ are, Merlin, lying to Arthur.”

Grinding his teeth, he stepped closer. “You didn’t deny it.”

Morgana rolled her eyes. “What do you hope to gain by this? Are you trying to give me reason to turn you in? I feel I’ve been more than generous by sparing your life.”

“I don’t want to see my friends get hurt.”

His words stung, and even though her feelings could be described as nothing but hatred towards him, she felt the prick of tears. “Maybe you should’ve thought of that before you gave me that drink.”

“Morgana--”

“Get out,” she interrupted, tired of his accusations. It didn’t matter that Morgause wanted Uther dead; it didn’t matter that she had wished it too. It didn’t matter that she could barely breathe here, she had come back anyways. She wouldn’t let Merlin ruin whatever little life she had left.  


He tried to say something else, but she started to scream at him.  


“GET OUT!” She felt a hold on her arm as he stupidly tried to control her, and she lost the tenuous grasp on her anger. Before she could stop it, she had thrown Merlin across the room, her eyes glowing gold. The candles were knocked over as he flew, and the tapestries caught on fire.

Merlin was unconscious where he lay, and Morgana screamed again as she sunk to her knees.

It only took a few moments for both Arthur and Lancelot to burst in her room, several other guards trailing behind them.

Morgana was crying in the middle of the fire, and without thinking, Arthur ran in and pulled her out, cradling her to his chest. As he set her down in the hall, she could faintly see the guards drag Merlin out through the haze of her tears. Arthur’s face swam into view as he knelt in front of her, his hands cradling the sides of her head. “Are you alright?”

She didn’t answer him, and he smoothed his hands down over her hair as he tried to get her attention.

“Morgana, what happened?”

It was too much for her to process, and she lifted a hand to push his arm away. Hurt by her rebuffing, he shook his head in frustration as he got up, going to help the guards with the fire.

As she started to shiver, Lancelot came over, and he bent down as Arthur had. “Morgana,” he whispered, and she looked up at him.

“Is he dead?” she mumbled, not sure which answer she’d prefer.

Lancelot shook his head.

“You said you’d be there when I wanted to talk,” she commented softly, her voice cracking on the high notes.

“I did,” he agreed.

“I think I need to talk,” she rasped, the words struggling to pass her lips.

Lancelot nodded, and as she started to cry again, he folded her into his chest, hugging her tightly.

\---

The story was that it was an accident, they had knocked over a candle, and in the rush Merlin had tripped and hit his head. Lancelot, however, knew better. Morgana had finally told someone about what had happened, almost all of it, and Lancelot was strangely understanding.

He knew her part in Morgause’s plan to put the city to sleep, but he didn’t blame her at all. Hearing of Merlin’s decision to poison her, on the other hand, made him grow quiet and the color of his face became tinged with an odd shade.

Despite how much she disliked Merlin, she made it clear that Lancelot was not to tell anyone. It had nothing to do with caring for Merlin’s welfare, but she knew how it would crush Arthur, and she oddly didn’t have it in her to do that to him.

Lancelot took care of it in his own way, though Morgana wasn’t sure all of what that entailed. Only that apparently Merlin had sworn to never come near her again, which was fine with her.

Lancelot also spent much more time with her now, which worked out well, since he was supposed to be courting her and all.

The plan was more effective than she thought, and her once friend’s pathetic looks whenever she and Lancelot passed should’ve upset her, but she was more focused on trying to keep herself sane than Gwen’s jealousy. She could barely make it through most nights without some nightmare of her own death, or Arthur’s, or Morgause’s. None seemed prophetic, but her torn loyalties still plagued her in this place, and Lancelot was a good distraction.  


It was all innocent at first, hand-holding, dancing, laughing at all the right times, just enough to keep up pretenses. Being as impetuous as she was, however, Morgana got tired of waiting patiently for something to happen, and one night after a celebration, she grabbed Lancelot and kissed him in front of everyone. The noise Gwen made was that of a wounded animal, and she could feel all of Lancelot’s muscles tense at the sound.  


It was rash, and she realized latently that it wasn’t the smartest decision. It became clear that it was ill-advised when Arthur pulled her aside, probably with the intention of scolding her.

“This has to stop,” he hissed, and Morgana was surprised by his choice of words. “First the ordeal with Merlin, and now this...”  


Her jaw fell slightly agape at his brashness. “You have no control over who I choose to see, Arthur, how dare you--”

He cut her off, continuing, “You have to stop keeping things from me.”

Her mouth closed so sharply that she nearly bit her tongue. “That’s what you’re upset about?”

“Yes,” he bit, offended, his jaw muscles jumping in his cheek as he clenched his teeth.  


Morgana softened, her fingers oddly itching to comfort him. “Arthur, I don’t...” She shook her head, words failing her.  


He sighed, his facial muscles relaxing. “I feel like, even though we got you back, I’ve still lost you somehow.” His words should’ve held a hint of embarrassment, or a humorous way out, but he just sounded sure-- like this was genuinely something he meant.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she tried, but he didn’t back down.

“Really?” He cocked his head at her. “You've all but ignored me since you returned. You’ve shut me out, ‘Gana.”

She shut her eyes for a moment, the use of her childhood nickname triggering something in her. “I knew you were conceited, Arthur, but really.” She tried to sound disdainful, but her voice wavered and it came out meek.

He chuckled softly. “Look, I’m not expecting us to be close or anything, but I miss you, alright?”

Morgana scoffed, but there was no malice behind it.

“I know you have your secrets, I just want you to know... you can trust me. I’m on your side, Morgana, always have been.” There was a sincerity in his tone, his eyes never leaving hers.  


She couldn’t rectify this version of Arthur with the one she had built up in her head; she had held onto her fake vision of him for so long. Why did he have to start caring again, it was so much easier to resent him. Swallowing against the dryness in her throat, she acquiesced. “Alright.” At his partial smile, she continued, “I’ll stop ignoring you if you stop being so annoying all the time.”  


He laughed at her. “No promises.”

\---

Life seemed to be getting better in Camelot, as long as Morgana continued to go on as if Merlin and Uther didn’t exist, that is. She and Arthur were spending time together again, and it felt nearly the same as it had before, as though nothing had changed. The devious side of her didn’t allow her to stop pretending with Lancelot, however, though the guilt did start to weigh on her. She had wanted to break apart Arthur and Gwen, originally for Lancelot’s benefit, but now she couldn’t seem to justify her choices.

She could see Gwen pulling away from Arthur, and she easily took the girl’s place beside him, though it was hard to tell if that was for his benefit or her own. Blurred lines were never easy for her to discern.  


The days rolled on like that, and she found Lancelot under the stars once more as they had done that first night. She watched his breath curl in the night air as he sighed.

“Are we terrible people?” he asked.

Morgana tilted her head back to stare up at the stars. “Depends on who you ask.” Tracing the imaginary lines between the stars with her finger, she continued, “For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re terrible.” A beat, and then, “I might be.”

He glanced over at her, but she was entranced by the sky. “It’s wrong, what we’re doing.”

“I’ve done worse,” she countered sardonically.  


He watched the way her shoulders sunk with an imaginary weight, and he shook his head. “But you regret it, I know you do.”

Tearing her eyes away from the stars, she looked at him, smiling. “Not when it’s to do with love, Lancelot. For that, there can be no regrets.”

He found himself chuckling at her. “I suppose you’re right.”

She nodded at him, pleased, before returning to her star-gazing.

“So, does that mean you love him?”

She didn’t answer him, letting the night sounds fill the silence, knowing better than to say anything further.  


\---  


The next time she had a nightmare, she crept into Arthur’s room out of old habits, and when he pulled the blankets back for her, she didn’t hesitate.

He whispered words into her hair as she fell asleep, and in the morning, when he asked, “What did you see?” she was too calm to feel the fear in her veins as she should.

“Nothing,” she mumbled, though he persisted.

“Should I be worried?”

Her heart was beginning to hammer in her chest, and she shook her head faintly before throwing the covers off and getting out of bed.

He reached for her hand, though she was quicker than him, and despite his promises, she couldn’t face him knowing this-- being okay with this. Wasn’t this why she had let Morgause keep her away in the first place?

“Morgana...” he started.

She turned back towards him, smiling beatifically. “I’ll see you at dinner.” She left, her heartbeats still erratic as she shut the door.

\---  


It didn’t take long for things to implode, though Morgana hadn’t expected things to go so wrong so quickly.  


Suddenly there were secret meetings after dark and whispered confessions masked by the pounding rain, though that was just the start. Gwen could only handle so much, and she finally snapped and told Lancelot that she couldn’t be without him. Which would’ve been fine had she properly warned everyone, rather than allow Arthur and Morgana to walk in on them.

Arthur and Morgana had been at dinner, and their laughter should’ve been distraction enough as it echoed in the halls, but even Lancelot with all his good intentions was too wrapped up in Gwen to notice.

Morgana stumbled at the sight, Gwen wrapped in Lancelot’s arms, clinging desperately to him as they kissed.  


Something clattered to the floor next to her, and she looked over to find Arthur, frozen. She tried to reach for him, but he snapped out of it before she could, flying into a rage.

Lancelot for his part didn’t fight back, he only used defensive moves as Arthur’s sword swung wildly at him.

Morgana recovered from the shock quicker than Gwen, and shoving the girl aside, managed to place herself between the two men.

Arthur stopped at the feel of Morgana’s hand on his skin, his chest heaving as he dropped his sword.

Everyone was frozen for a brief moment, though Morgana’s hand remained pressed against Arthur’s collarbone. Arthur and Lancelot’s heavy breathing echoed through the hall, and as Morgana looked over her shoulder, she caught Gwen’s eyes filling up with tears.  


Shaking his head, Arthur ordered, “Get out of my sight.”

Morgana wasn’t sure if that included her, but she stayed regardless, watching the others leave in silence. She caught Lancelot’s gaze, and the remorse there nearly broke her heart. She knew what it was like to be caught on the wrong side, to betray people you love for the right reasons. She knew it hurt him, but she couldn’t comfort him, not now.

Arthur sunk down on the bottom steps of the staircase, and Morgana came to sit next to him. He seemed so deflated, and his voice carried notes of defeat as he mumbled, “How could they do this to us?”

Morgana forgot herself for a moment, too busy watching the lines of his face. “Us?” she whispered.

Arthur’s eyes came up to meet hers, and he awkwardly tried to cover his mistake. “I mean, to you.”

Realizing that he thought she still didn’t know, Morgana shook her head, the slight mirth at his pathetic lie not quite manifesting into laughter. “It’s alright, Arthur. I know that fight wasn’t all about defending my honor.”

“It partly was,” he admitted. “I can’t stand the thought of someone hurting you.”  


His words were sobering, and she set her hand on his knee. “I know.” She let out a breath, unable to continue without saying something she’d regret. Softly, she murmured, “I’m sorry about Gwen.”  


He tilted his head back to look up at the ceiling before snorting derisively at himself. “You must think I’m pathetic.”

She shrugged. “A little naive and oblivious maybe, but not pathetic.”  


He chuckled, his head dropping back down so he could stare at his lap. “I forgot how comforting you were.”

“It’s what I’m here for,” she quipped, nudging his shoulder with her own.  


They sat in silence for a few moments before Arthur broke the quiet. “I’m trying to be sorry about Lancelot, really, I am.”

Morgana’s eyebrow quirked up in typical fashion. “What’s stopping you?”

He gave her a pointed look, his intense gaze carrying more than his words could.

Morgana tore her eyes away, clearing her throat. “It’s alright, it wasn’t anything serious.”

“Really?” he asked, and she bit her lip, nodding. Arthur felt her fingers tense from where they lay on his knee, and he looked down, finally noticing them resting there. He laughed low in his throat, mumbling, “God, it killed me to see you with him.”  


Her mouth fell open slightly, but she covered it quickly with a shaky smile. “We’re pretty damaged, aren’t we?”

He chuckled again, shaking his head. “We really are.”

\---

Morgana watched Lancelot and Gwen leave from the turrets. Arthur hadn’t banished them, but it was obvious that it was only as a way to keep things quiet, and Lancelot was too noble to stay and cause more pain. He had bid Morgana goodbye the night before, and even offered to take her with him.

She told him she’d regret it, but she was staying.

When she found Arthur, her hand slipped easily into his, and the warmth of him reminded her of why she needed to be here. It wouldn’t be long before her magic was revealed, or Merlin tried to harm her, or Morgause got impatient-- but until then, she was staying right here, beside him.

The rest of the world could wait.  



End file.
